


All the Way Back to Earth-That-Was

by What_we_are



Category: Firefly
Genre: Bisexuality, Brides, Female Friendship, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Pre-Series, Remix, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 02:15:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2049546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/What_we_are/pseuds/What_we_are
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><br/>Marrying Wash will be easy. What's tricky is telling Mal and finding the right dress.  </p><p>Remix of "Her Portrait in White" by Taste_of_Suburbia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Way Back to Earth-That-Was

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Taste_of_Suburbia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Her Portrait in White](https://archiveofourown.org/works/841637) by [Taste_of_Suburbia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia). 



> This remix draws on the show and movie, but not the comics.
> 
> Here's a fashion visual aid: http://aboutjewellery.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/neckline_types.jpg
> 
> Chinese translations are below.

  


Zoe couldn't blame the boutique clerk for being curt when Kaylee asked if he had the displayed gown in Zoe’s size. She knew the two of them didn't belong in his shop, any more than he belonged in a firefight or an engine room. Her first impulse was to force him to go in the back and _find out_ if he had it in her size, but it wasn't that kind of errand, and she had a personal policy against starting trouble on Central Planets.

Kaylee was puffing up, getting ready to give the shopkeeper a piece of her mind. Zoe touched her arm and said, “Let’s go. This place isn't really my style anyway.”

In truth, she didn't want to try on the one Kaylee had gotten so excited over. There was foofaraw on the shoulders and the bottom half was big enough to conceal all manner of contraband. The word “hideous” came to mind.

* * *

  


Zoe was in the common room reading over the improvements to home security systems in the area. It was aimless research just to satisfy her curiosity. They’d never be able to do that type of job here, but it didn't hurt be informed.

Inara glided in. “Researching hóng dòu tang recipes?”

Zoe smiled. Inara knew damn well that Wash’s mother would be hurt if there were any other desserts competing with her wedding cake. Zoe showed Inara the blueprints. “Wedding type planning isn't exactly my area of expertise.”

“Mine either, I’m afraid. I do know about clothes however. I’d like to go shopping with you and Kaylee, if I may.”

“She told you about that.” Zoe said in a flat tone.

“I know of other shops that are-“

“-cheaper.”

“- more polite,” the companion finished. “And if you don’t find something you love, I know a dressmaker.”

Zoe nodded. “That’s kind of you. It matters to me more than I thought it would. I wouldn't have thought I was picky.”

“Of course you’re selective. It’s the most important garment of your life. We’ll find the perfect one.” Inara glanced behind her and was relieved to see Wash instead of Mal.

Keeping a secret on a ship was impossible. Zoe knew the captain had to hear it from her, the sooner the better.

Wash said hello and sat down next to Zoe. "You know it's impossible to keep a secret on a ship. We gotta tell him soon, now, before it gets to be a thing. Maybe I should do it, man to man."

His soon-to-be-bride looked at him in a way that scared him a little.

"Or not," he corrected as he put up his hands in mock surrender. "Maybe soldier to soldier is the way to go, but it has to happen."

"No reason to be putting it off," Zoe said as she stood up.

"Perhaps he'll be pleased for you," Inara offered without conviction. 

* * *

  


Mal was on the bridge looking at the stars. He turned and smiled at her. 

"I could tell it was you."

"No you couldn't." Zoe said in amusement. She sat in the seldom used copilot's chair. "Captain, I appreciate you agreeing to stop at Wash's home planet when we pass by."

"I never said we'd stop. And is that still goin' on with you two . . . " Mal waved his hand to indicate the questionable things that he hoped were no longer going on. 

"Mal, I'm gonna go meet his people and we're gonna marry."

“No," the captain said flat-out, as if Zoe had asked him a question. "That’ll complicate things.”

She tried for light-hearted. “This’ll free up a bunk. We could hire a cook.”

“It ain’t about bunks. It’s about having a crew that's to the task.”

That enraged her, but she kept voice cool. “With all due respect sir, matrimony’s simple. What was complicating was all those other folk I used to bed. Remember when I accidentally seduced our client’s wife on Santo and he almost killed the both of us?”

“Still don’t see how seducing can be accidental.”

Humor. Maybe she was making headway. “You took to kicking my door before we left a world, just to make sure there weren't an accidental stowaway down there still sleeping it off. And that situation that led to the rule that you meet everyone comes on board-”

“That thieving prairie harpy took two crates of rations out of the kitchen while you slept at the table.”

“Whiskey was a factor, Sir. And we got it back. Point is: none of that happens anymore since I been with Wash.” 

“Time was, you were with Justine. And when that . . .” 

It was suddenly clear to her why Mal never sought companionship. Zoe felt a good deal wiser than her captain, and not for the first time. 

“I got my heart broke. You helped me put it back together.”

Mal sighed. "I don't want my crew marrying off."

Zoe was losing faith in their ability to converse this out. But she tried. "I love him. I'm gonna take his name, but that's just adding not subtracting. I'll still be Zoe Alleyne. Making Wash my family don't diminish my loyalty to Justine's memory, the Browncoats, or Serenity."

"It complicates things." 

"It really doesn't."

She'd have to show Mal with her actions. A few weeks, maybe months and he'd come around.

* * *

  


“You look like a wet cat.” Kaylee commented. “Your face, you look like it hurts to wear a dress.”

“It ain't that. I wear skirts.” Maybe that was overstating it, but somewhere she had a short one made of navy blue canvas.

What she was wearing that moment was simple enough up top, but there was too much fabric around her legs.

Inara browsed another rack of gowns. “Are you set on white?”

“It’s custom on his world. And no shoes. It’s their warm season and everybody, even the guests are gonna be barefoot.”

Inara looked in the mirror with her. “What do you not like about this one? You look stunning in it and there’s no way you could call it poufy.”

Zoe looked at her reflection. “I want something that won’t trip me up when I walk. And it can’t be so crowded on my neck.”

The dress had a sabrina neckline that came nowhere near crowding. Kaylee and Inara shared a confused look. 

“So you want to show cleavage?” Inara suggested.

“No, just like the kind of stuff I normally wear.”

Kaylee nodded to Inara: she wants to show a little cleavage.

The three of them found a sleeveless gown, with a sweetheart neckline, that fit the outlaw perfectly. They had the length brought up to just above the knee. At Kaylee’s insistence, the tailor hid a piece of blue ribbon inside the hem for luck.

* * *

  


Mal sat down at the dinner table and looked around at his crew: Zoe, Wash, the new guy Jayne, Kaylee and Inara. “So why is it, when I come in, everyone ceases to be talkin?”

Inara passed him the fake potatoes. “Kaylee and I were just saying we want to put flowers in Zoe’s hair for the wedding, but she’s not sure it suits her, and Wash was saying he’ll ask his family what’s in season.”

Mal plopped a spoon of the stuff onto his plate and took a protein slice. “Flowers. That’s great. While most my crew goes off on this pocket-full-of-posies vacation, Jayne and I are gonna be trying to scrape up work in a system ain't got nothing to sell and no money to hire. No offence Wash – I’m sure it’s very nice once you get used to it.”

“You know Captain,” Wash ventured. “You are invited.”

Zoe put her hand on her fiancé’s and shook her head. She and Mal had already gone down that road.

Jayne chimed in, “I’m going.”

An exasperated Mal addressed his first mate. “What you invitin’ him for? He’s only been on a couple weeks. And you said he was a dumb lug.” To Jayne, “That’s a quote.”

Jayne took it in stride. “They’re serving alcohol. And cake.”

“Ching-wah TSAO duh liou mahng. That’s too many for a shuttle now. I gotta land the ship. How ain’t that a mutiny?!” Mal took his plate and ate elsewhere.

Kaylee watched him go before turning to Zoe. “I got some plastic flowers we can practice with. Give ya an idea how it'll look.”

Inara added, “On the day, we could use my orchids.”

The three women spent the next hour in Inara’s shuttle experimenting with twists, buns and braids. At least in Inara’s mirror, surround by beautiful silks, all the options looked equally lovely.

Zoe used a hand mirror to see the back where plastic daisies were woven into her reddish curls. The real orchids were next to the mirror for reference.

“I’m gonna see how this looks with the dress.”

The eyes of her feminine friends lit up.

Zoe went on. “I mean by my lonesome.”

She was glad Wash didn’t see her make her way to her bunk. She wanted everything about how she looked on the day to be a surprise.

His clothes would be a surprise too, though he’d promised the shirt didn't have pineapples on it.

Even in the narrow filmy mirror of her own bunk, Zoe looked beautiful. Inara and Kaylee had been saying how she’d startle Wash with her beauty and render him unable to say his parts of the ceremony. They weren't far off. With a few tiny adjustments, fragrant flowers, a couple loose tendrils of hair, she'd stupefy him. Make him feel as lucky as she did. Make him remember the day forever.

She put the dress on and enjoyed how the pure whiteness of it stood out against her brown skin. She belonged in this dress. When she wore it, she looked out of place in her dingy grey bunk. She looked like she was glowing, or was that just pregnant women who glowed? This had to be her favorite thing she'd ever worn. Plus she could probably fight in it if she had to. The bodice was fitted and the skirt was full enough to stick out just a little. 

She had the urge to twirl and see how the skirt moved. It was a childish impulse. She shimmed a little and a smile appeared of its own volition.

This was really happening. If they stayed on course, and Mal didn't find some petty job across the verse that needed doing immediately, she’d be a married woman four days from now.

Zoe Washburne. Pride filled her as she said the name in her head. This was what she wanted. Falling in love with Wash had been unexpected, to say the least. He wasn't a fighter or a criminal (till he met them). And he was of her second favorite gender. But they were well suited. Even living as they did, he grounded her, and she took pride in the fact that she did the same for him. Out in the black, the pull between two people took on gravity that world dwellers couldn't understand.

The only leaf in the punchbowl was Mal. 

She focused back on the dress and how gorram good she looked in it. This was the dress she would wear when she said her vows. Her mother might have worn a dress like this. She imagined her mother and grandmothers must have felt some of these same feelings of pride and hope when they got ready to wed. She felt a connection to other women stretching all the way back to Earth-That-Was. It was akin to the camaraderie of war but this was something she'd actually hope for her children to experience. It was beyond herself and beyond happiness. It was solidarity with folks long dead and it was about marriage its-self, not the fact she'd settled on husband instead of a wife. It took bravery entering into a promise like this. Her and Wash were going to share a name and all the rest of their future, whether it was long or short, bending towards security or adventure.

She could have a daughter of her own one day. Maybe that daughter would wear this same dress. Zoe reckoned any little Washburnes they made would have her curly hair, maybe Wash’s eyes. That’d be a sight.

The intercom on the wall buzzed, probably the captain.

She looked at herself another minute, unready to answer him and put the dress back in its box.

* * *

* * *

  


  


hóng dòu tang = sweet red bean soup

Ching-wah TSAO duh liou mahng = “Frog-Humping Son of a Bitch” according to “Firefly's 15 Best Chinese Curses (and How to Say Them)” Toplessrobot.com

gorram = damn

**Author's Note:**

> It's so fun to write about women who are relatively happy! My other fan fic has been about the unhappy men of Breaking Bad.
> 
> One of the things that intrigued me about "Her Portrait in White" was Zoe's pride. I make Zoe's ideas get pretty big and possibly cliched, but I mean it all sincerely. 
> 
> Comments are always welcome.


End file.
